


The Beginning in the End

by Enchantable



Series: Full Circle [2]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Presumed Dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-17
Updated: 2013-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-23 20:14:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/930664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantable/pseuds/Enchantable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Death bed confessions are not meant to be lived past</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beginning in the End

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Can you do a follow up to the last chuck and mako fic?

Jaegersexual. 

That’s what the kids call him. Chuck doesn’t care about that sort of shit but it doesn’t mean he’s deaf. He knows what they say about him. Truth is though, Jaegers are the only things he cares about. He wants to know what it feels like to not be weak, to be strong enough to save someone. To have hands that could pull someone to safety instead of letting go. He doesn’t think about the future, or the end of the war and the fact that Jaegers are supposed to be a temporary solution. In his darkest moments, like when he walks away from Mako, he doesn’t think he wants to survive it. 

So of course he does. 

Because if there is one thing the universe loves it is fucking up his plans. He survives, then survives again, then again until he limps back into the shatterdome to find everyone’s getting on peachy. He tells himself that the pod was broken, they had no way to know. But the fact that they’ve all been out celebrating pisses him off just a little. And when he comes to his room to find it turned into Mako’s office, he looses it just a little more. 

It’s like he’s got water in his hands and it’s draining through his fingers. Except the water is his sanity. The only thing he can do is pretend to be strong. But it is pretending because he isn’t strong. He’s broken and he’s breaking apart and it kills him. Especially the way people look at him. They’re looking at him like they’re expecting him to break and the last thing Chuck wants to do is prove them right. 

When he winds up on the roof at three in the morning, he doesn’t mean to be so close to the edge. But he’s there and as he looks down he wonders if anything will ever matter again. He looks down at the churning water and tries to remember the sight of the helicopters pulling the Jaegers into position. When he can’t, his toes seem to move a little closer to the edge. 

And then somehow Mako is there. 

The universe truly does hate him, Chuck decides. Because the reason Mako’s there is his father’s taken it upon himself to say everything Chuck’s been trying to for half his fucking life. Chuck hates the man so much sometimes. But when he looks at her, he doesn’t see the pity he usually does in people’s eyes. And when she asks him to stay, his entire body screams at him to comply. 

Standing in the alcove, she crushes him to her smaller frame and Chuck finds it hard to breathe for an entirely different reason. People don’t hug him. Even the one he exchanged with his father was a quick press of bodies. But Mako’s fitted hers against him and her arms are tight on his shoulders and he doesn’t think she has any intention of letting go. 

HIs hands are hesitant, tentative even as they come up. For the first time in a very long time Chuck feels something other than anger and hate. He feels nervous. Because people don’t hug him and he sure as hell doesn’t hug them. When his arms find their way around her body they both seem to collapse a little on each other. But it feels nice, having someone there to help shoulder the weight. They stand like that for a long time, or it feels that way anyway, but Chuck has no desire to move. 

She lets him walk her back to her room, but he knows she watches as he limps off to his. 

All Chuck knows of relationships and feelings and shit comes from his dad’s head. He knows what it’s like be in love and in lust, to press a girl up to the wall, to bring someone flowers, to get down on one knee and pray with everything you are that the answer will be yes because you cannot imagine your life without them. He knows all of that. Down to the feelings that come with it. Problem is, it isn’t his feelings. 

And he isn’t exactly going to bring Mako Mori a bunch of daisies. 

Chuck never expected to survive the end of the war. And he definitely didn’t expect to be patched up by a bunch of third rate wanna be heroes. The doctors say he’s alright but they let him leave. It takes every fucking thing he has in him to put Max on a leash and hobble to the infirmary. It’s like the doctors have been waiting for him. Chuck sits on the uncomfortable bed with Max at his feet as the doctor puts an x-ray on the screen and begins to go over the damage with him. 

When he comes out, Mako is waiting outside. 

"Fuck," he swipes a hand through his hair, “who told you?"

"I went to your room,’ she tells him evenly, “you weren’t there."

He tries not to react to the idea that she’s been looking for him. Max barks happily up at her and he glares at the dog whose always seemed capable of expressing—and receiving—everything Chuck cannot. They walk silently for a bit but Chuck can feel everyone staring. It’s like someone is winding him tighter and tighter. He’s about to turn around and tell them to go fuck themselves when Mako’s hand wraps on top of his. 

Her grip is like steel, bordering on painful. But it’s grounding as she all but pulls him forward and to the side, down a different hallway and away from everyone else. 

She doesn’t say anything but, then again, she doesn’t really have to. Mako is used to people staring at her for reasons she wishes they wouldn’t. Blue coat, red shoe, bad first drift, Stacker Pentecost’s adopted daughter—it’s a long list. He knows she hates how they glorify or vilify her. But now he gets it. Because he’s pretty sure they’re doing the same thing to him. He looks down at her and she catches his eye. 

"Don’t they have better things to do?" he asks half heartedly. 

She smiles and he forgets how to breathe. 

Raleigh gets it too, but he gets it differently. Mostly because no-one is brave enough to ask him the same questions after the last time they tried to turn him into some kind of hero for surviving. The reporters want their story, but they want their limbs unbroken more. Chuck thinks that’s a good idea, but he has his father’s memories in his head so he knows how to deal with the reporters slightly better. 

Except they’re asking about him and not his dad. 

Chuck’s always wanted to step out of his father’s shadow but not because someone shoved him into an escape pod. His own emotions parallel his dads when someone asks about the deaths, about the Jaegers, about how it feels to survive. It’s only because he’s felt the blinding rage before he doesn’t fly at them and beat them with the cane he’s now forced to carry around. His voice is tight and angry but he gets the words out. 

He sits with his dad for the first time at dinner that night. 

Things get better with such agonizing slowness Chuck wants to kill someone. Except he can’t because he can’t even walk right let alone swing a weapon. The only thing that inspires him is when he hears whispers of a Jaeger program. But when he confronts his dad, Herc says nothing. Chuck knows it’s a long shot but he ramps his physical therapy up anyway, determined that if it’s true he’ll be ready.

And if it isn’t? Well, he’ll be ready too. 

When the time comes, no-one wants to fight him. Even Raleigh seems to take it easy on him and Chuck hates him again for that. He seeks out Mako who is locked up in her new office and pounds the door twice before she lets him in. 

"Fight me," he demands. She looks at him evenly, “no-one else will fight me," he elaborates finally.

She looks at him and he thinks she’ll say no. That he’s not ready or she doesn’t want to. The plea in his throat gets caught there as the anger begins to bubble before he shoves it down. He is not a five year old whose being denied a toy. The fact that his instinct is to react as such makes things all the worse. Finally though she gives a curt nod. 

"Tomorrow?"

"Now."

She steps onto the mats across from him. The staf feels like a lead weight in his hands as he twirls it experimentally. They meet in the middle and she beats him so soundly he’s a little impressed with her. He’s on his back with her staff under his legs and victory shining in her eyes when it happens again. It feels like he can’t breathe, like he can’t move. Like he’s got no control over his body. 

He moves and she lets him but instead of leaving he rushes at her. He uses his size to overpower her because that’s all he’s got and when he flips her she goes with him and straddles him until he flips them over and pins her hands up above her head. Her hips jerk against him and he moves a leg between hers, trapping her. Their eyes lock and he realizes he’s close enough to see the exact place where her hair changes from blue to black and the world seems to go perfectly still. 

Her breath comes hot against his face and his fingers dig into her wrists. He’s so stunned he doesn’t react when her leg hooks around his lower back and she rolls them over in one fluid motion. Her thighs are around him and she’s pressed just where the plating of his stomach armor is supposed to end. Just above where all the blood seems to be rushing. 

He sits up but instead of flipping like he’s supposed to he seems to freeze when she sinks lower in his lap. She’s breathing hard and so is he, their eyes locked on each other. He can see her hair move when he exhales. And though his arm is up around her back, his fingers are buried in the fabric of her tank top like he needs something to hold onto. She’s looking down at him but she isn’t moving either. 

"Mako," he almost growls her name but there’s no real anger in it. If anything there’s a plea behind it, said with his usual anger. Because they’re locked together, arms and legs twisted around each other and he has no idea what how to deal with the fact that he doesn’t want to move. 

She ducks her head and gently presses her lips to his. 

Chuck is teased as being Jaegersexual and there’s a reason for it. Jaegers are the only things that make him feel something. But Jaegers are gone and Mako’s soft mouth is gently on his and he realizes that for a long time he’s been feeling something for someone else. He’s clumsy when he tries to follow, his actions guided by memories and feelings of someone else. But she moves with him, shows him what to do and somehow it all clicks together as his hand flattens against her tank and his other wraps around her as well. 

He’s not in a Jaeger, but for the first time since he was shoved into the escape pod, Chuck Hansen feels alive.


End file.
